Alien Games
by Hoobajoo
Summary: Once a month a retired banker and his friends enjoy a depraved game. The stakes and payoff rise each time, but this next game will blow their minds. Rated M for violence, language and sex. NOT FOR CHILDREN. REVIEWS APRRECIATED.
1. New game

**Note from the Author:** This is intended to run for a few chapters only. I would very much appreciate feedback good or bad. Many thanks – Hoobajoo.

CHAPTER 1 – NEW GAME

It's 2197 and Brandon Keller is an old man, approaching 67. He has retired from his job as head of Asian operations for Harker Finch on Earth. Harker Finch is a large financial institution focusing predominantly on financing for mining and other natural resources and investment planning.

He worked very hard during his 32 year career at the bank, having joined as a senior analyst and worked his way up through the ranks, holding his prestigious position for 12 years. His division performed well over the years and the bonus schemes and incentive plans in place at the bank left him a very wealthy man.

However, Brandon was left a tired and unhealthy man after long years of service where it was common place to work from 6am to 12pm, 6 days a week. Large deals and lots of mental stress in a competitive environment meant he had been through 3 divorces and largely doesn't know any of his 4 children. He'd had two heart attacks and at his worst weighed over 130 kgs. After hiring personal trainers and using metabolism enhancers, he was now a trim and healthy 75kgs and feeling 21 again.

Essentially, now retired, his main source of company, besides his mistress, is a circle of business associates and contacts. They ranged from other bankers and children of wealthy families. Brandon and his friends, being very competitive in nature, liked to outdo one another when it came to hosting "Mandays" as they were called, which occurred once a month. For Mandays, the idea of fun ranges from orgies with prostitutes, whether human or android, to betting on pit fights to hunting in Africa and Apollo 7 (a planet known for good game hunting). Whatever it was that made a man feel like a man.

The money involved was disgusting and was not short on supply since they were all very, very rich men.

Last month, it was Brandon's turn to host Manday and he arranged for the group (9 of them) to boat out to a private island and hunt down and kill kidnapped felons. The prisoners were released on the island, fenced into areas via electric barriers and given a head start to run to the other end of the island where sanctuary was promised i.e. the prisoner wins. However, under escort from hired security, Brandon and the others were given the opportunity to hunt down and kill their allotted prisoners before they escaped. All but two prisoners were successfully killed and the winner who killed his prisoner in the quickest time was given a deluxe "massage" at the very exclusive Velvet Pleasures club. Brandon came second, losing the top prize by 11 seconds.

All in all, everyone agreed that it was the best Manday so far and also agreed the bar had been set extremely high for the next month, which was down to Barry to arrange.

The time passed pleasurably for Brandon as he repeatedly rendezvoused with his favourite mistress and betted well on the Orange Cup horse race, betting $1m and getting a net return of $9.4m for the day. Equivalent to 6 months worth of salary and bonuses back at Harker Finch.

Betted very well indeed for a single day of indulgence.

Brandon was sitting on his deckchair overlooking his enormous pool and riverside view in France as his mistress, Veronica, bobbed up and down between his legs. Brandon leaned back, feeling relaxed and happy as she slid up and down on his penis, working that magic she does so well with that tongue of hers.

Ah, life is good.

"Sir?" Brandon snapped out of his happy stupor as his servant Manfred interrupted.

"What is it?" Brandon did not yell at him. Manfred knew to interrupt moments like this only when it was important. Nevertheless, Veronica continued giving Brandon his blowjob as Manfred handed him a phone.

"It's Barry sir. It's about the next Manday."

Brandon smiled and winked down at Veronica as she tongued his balls. "Barry my friend, how are you?"

"I am well Brandy. How about yourself?"

"Oh well, you know. Feeling a little ah… stiff this morning… but don't worry. I've got someone working on that right now." Barry looked down smiling at Veronica as she winked back, grinning with his dick comprehensively engulfed in her mouth

"Good work old man. Listen, I've got a corker lined up for this week!"

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to hearing how in the hell you are going to top the last Manday, Barry."

"Oh, trust me Brandy. What I've got planned is in the same sort of vein as what you organized, but much better."

Brandon sat up in his deckchair, intrigued. "Indeed?"

"Oh yes."

Brandon cocked an eyebrow up as he replied, "And what, pray tell, is it?"

"Well Brandy, I'm not telling, but I've sent the instructions to your servant. He'll take you where to the space port and then you'll be taken to…… the facility."

"Facility?"

"Yes old man. Don't bother asking for clarification, because no more details will be forthcoming. Just make sure Manfred gets you to the Aruca spaceport this Saturday morning by 11am to catch the jet."

Brandon leaned back down in his deckchair and reached for his gin and tonic sitting next to him on the wicker table taking a small nip and setting it back down again. "Alright then Baz. I'll tell you now though. It better be fucking good!"

Barry paused a moment on the other end. "Oh, don't worry. It'll be like nothing you've ever seen before." Brandon was surprised to hear the line click dead as Barry hung up on him.

A little stunned, he simply handed the phone back to Manfred and he quickly walked out and away, leaving Brandon alone again with Veronica.

Brandon hadn't noticed, but she had removed her bikini bottom and was ready to reverse straddle him. Brandon reached out and laid his hand on her hip. "Vera, looks like I'm going away this Saturday."

She whipped he hair around and stared back at him with her almond eyes. She lowered down teasingly, letting the folds of her vagina touch lightly on the head of his penis. "Oh? How long for?"

"Don't know sugar. Barry's got something planned." Brandon lightly pulled her down so the tip of his dick slid easily into her.

"But baby, I'll miss you!" she pouted, wiggling herself around, playing with his stiff dick, slowly grinding down onto it.

Brandon grinned as she slid down, "Don't worry baby, I won't be gone long I'm sure."

Veronica squeezed her pelvic muscles, causing Brandon to bite his lip with pleasure. "Well baby, I'd better make sure you want to…. cum.." She pushed down, engulfing his entire shaft inside her as she said that word, "..back soon, huh?"

Brandon laid his other hand on her hip and guided her up and down as she writhed. "Sounds like a good idea, baby."


	2. Cold Realisation

CHAPTER 2 – COLD REALISATION

Manfred woke Brandon at 8am Saturday morning to a breakfast in bed of grapefruit, apricot yoghurt, Kenyan coffee and sourdough toast spread with Ackerberry jam (a hard to get berry from Chora i.e. LV 127). Veronica stirred next to him, her ample caramel breasts sliding out from under the silk sheets as Brandon gingerly ate his breakfast while he watched the morning finance report.

The news at the moment was buzzing at the prospect of Lingerman Mining and Phorak Minet Conglomerate merging in a deal ready to set the record books for the largest deal in history. $5.7 trillion and Brandon friends Chris and Leroy were working on the merger as the investment brokers. Jenkins was the CEO of Lingerman Exploration, the main mining subsidiary of Lingerman Mining and Brandon guessed they were all extremely busy at the moment and unlikely to make this month's Manday.

"Much the pity." Brandon mused. "Oh well, less competitors means less competition."

After finishing off the rest of his coffee and having a nice long shower, Brandon dressed himself in a pin striped Sachs Anhcorman suit, dark blue, with cream trousers and a power red tie. His hair (implanted after he started balding at 38 years old) slicked back and his vintage 2008 Brietling Steamliner watch securely fastened around his wrist.

Feeling excited at the prospect of the much hyped Manday game, he bade Veronica farewell as she tried to tempt him back to bed using all sorts of alluring poses and promises to get him to stay. She was placated after Brandon assured her that after having left her for a few days, he would be very 'hungry' when he got back. Further, she had the opportunity to go shopping in his absence.

The drive to Acura spaceport was uneventful as Manfred parked the car and escorted Brandon inside the spaceport diamond class lounge where a man in a dark suit and dark sunglasses waved and escorted him aboard a private jet.

As was expected, the jet was very plush and he was the only passenger. The anti-gravity systems did an excellent job of negating the G-forces of take off. He busied himself reading a book about the life of a recently deceased and prominent politician and sipping Semillon Blanc until the jet touched down 2 hours later. However, he was perturbed during the entire flight and still was since no one had told him where they were taking him. He surmised he must be on Mars given the 2 hour flight time, but had no idea where exactly on Mars.

The jet's main door opened and Brandon was relieved to see Barry waiting to greet him as he descended the stairs down to the hangar floor.

"Brandy!"

"Barry you great fuck! Where am I?!"

Barry stepped forward and shoved his hand out towards Brandon as he reached the last step, "Calm down Brandy, it's all part of the fun. You'll see."

Brandon grabbed Barry's hand and gave it a firm shake, "Barry there's surprises and surprises. You now I don't like the latter."

Barry let go and walked off motioning Brandon to follow to a black limousine, "What's wrong old man. You're not a pussy are you?"

Brandon pointed at him, his finger dead straight and aimed right at his eyes, "Pussy is gonna beat you at whatever game this is. Remember, pussy tastes better than chicken."

Barry laughed heartily as he approached the open door of the limo, "Touche, come on then. I spent too much money on this one for you to be late. You got here last, you know."

"Fashionably late, I make no excuses. Why? How much did this one cost you?"

Barry's smile disappeared and he looked Brandon right in the eyes, locking his gaze as they sat down in the plush limo's seats. "$10 million."

"Shit! That's enough, you didn't ha-"

"Each."

Brandon was stunned. "Wh-what?" Brandon adjusted in his seat at the limo pulled out and began driving. "$10 million each? $90 million altogether?"

Barry rested his hand on the arm rest and he put his feet up on the leather footwell. "That's right." Barry's net worth was in the billions after having inherited a large share of the family business, but nevertheless, a $90 million purchase was not to be sneezed at for a game of fun.

Brandon and Barry didn't talk much more as the limo drove on smoothly, guided by the sure hands of the dark and unseen chauffeur.

After another 20 minutes, the limo pulled to a stop at a mysterious looking building, an elevator prominent at the front. Barry and Brandon were greeted cheerfully by a particularly attractive blonde woman who led them into the elevator and pressed a red button located several inches below the other buttons after the turn of a key.

Again Barry and Brandon barely spoke as the elevator pod descended and finally opened after what seemed like 40 or 50 seconds. The doors opened to a dimly lit corridor and the blonde escort gestured for them to follow her down it.

At the end, a very solid door gave the impression that something very dangerous and/or important was inside. The blonde girl looked up to a camera in the ceiling and the doors opened smoothly, without a sound.

Inside, Brandon and Barry could see a man in a sharp suit, his hair slicked back, a scar running down the side of his face, extending from above his eye down to his chin. Brandon was starting to feel nervous as the man stepped towards them, cracking a smile as he approached.

"Sir Brandon." The man simply stated as though it was the answer to a question. "My name is Michael Danner. I run this facility. I take it that Barry has not told you what this facility is for?"

"That's right." Barry chimed in with a curt smile.

Michael gestured to the left towards a doorway, "This way please, sir. Your friends are waiting. I will explain then."

They all walked silently through another set of doors, through what appeared to be empty office space and then into a board room with a shiny pine table and comfortable looking leather seats. Michael gestured to his left and Brandon was greeted with a familiar sight. The rest of the gang, minus the few who were working on the Lingerman/Phorak deal. Including Brandon and Barry, there were six of them in all.

Each of them cheered enthusiastically upon seeing Brandon. Old jokes and banter followed as the blonde girl served drinks. The conversation lasted a few moments before Michael Danner stood before them and asked them to sit to view a presentation.

Each of them sat, leaning back casually in their chairs, drinks of whisky, gin and tonic, or vodka in hand as the projector lit up against a screen. Michael stood proudly at the front as the blonde girl manned the projector.

Michael inhaled and clasped his hands as he began to speak. "Gentlemen. Welcome to this facility. No doubt you are all wondering why you are here and what this place is. It is called Xenorena. This is a highly exclusive entertainment arena open only to a select few by invitation only. As Barry may have informed you previously, your places here are at the cost of an even $10 million each, to emphasize how exclusive this place is."

The screen glowed as it transitioned from the Xenorena logo to a schematic diagram.

Michael continued, "This is a schematic diagram of this facility. It is a left over base from when the US government performed various scientific experiments and weapons research as part of the White Beetle scandal 15 years ago. For those of you who are not familiar with the failed project, it's objective was to tap into the fabric of space/time to tap into other dimensions. As you may know, the project was spectacularly unsuccessful and achieved nothing at the monumental waste of taxpayer dollars. However, we purchased this facility off the US government at a bargain price and have developed it into an exclusive arena."

"The basic premise is that we keep a zoo of vicious monsters in a separate wing of this facility. We put you in another wing, armed to the teeth. We set the monsters free. Your objective is to kill the monsters before they "kill" you. I say kill in inverted commas because we equip you with blue shields so they cannot come into physical contact with you. You are completely protected. For those of you who don't know, blue shields are essentially fields of energy that surround you and, when activated, act like a force field and protect you. But if the monsters touch your blue shield, you are taken as dead for the purposes of the game and you are removed and it is up to the remaining players to achieve the goal of survival."

Brandon shifted in his chair as Michael stepped forward.

"The monsters you will be facing…." The blonde woman swapped to the next slide. "are xenomorphs!"

Everyone gasped as a life size image of a xenomorph alien glowed menacingly at them from the screen, A video of the alien running down a series of corridors started, and everyone in the room (except Danner and the blonde girl) gasped as the footage continued and showed the alien successfully chase down and tear apart a person.

Michael continued, "This, gentlemen is why this program costs so much. They are the fiercest and rarest of monsters. They are very difficult to capture and harvest, but we have taken care of that for you for your killing pleasure. You will be armed with M41A pulse rifles, just like back in the day before the marine corps developed electro cannons and plasma rifles. The degree of difficulty will be high and your mettle will surely be tested like never before. Only the bravest will survive!" Michael threw his hands in the air, pacing around the room for dramatic effect.

Brandon raised his hand and Michael gestured for him to speak. "How many of these things are we going to be up against?"

Michael answered, pausing at first. "You fill face them in stages. First you will clear out an area with only one, then a separate area with only two, then 5 and then finally 10. 18 xenos in all."

Michael gestured towards the blonde woman who clicked the button for the next slide, which showed a model of a man wearing various items of equipment and a pulse rifle. 'You will be equipped, as I said alluded to before, with vintage marine equipment from over 30 years ago. You main weapon will be M41A pulse rifles. These ones have been modified so that they are much lighter, made out of poly-carbon resin. They weigh a quarter of the weight of a normal steel rifle. They hold 99 rounds in a clip and fire at the rate of 10 rounds a second.

You will also be fitted with a head set radio like in the old days, which we will use to keep in touch with you and tell you where to go. You can also use it to speak to each other. You will also be provided with an strapped helmet with a fold down heads-up-display with a map of this facility and an infra-red visor to see in the dark. No dark illumination lenses here. Wasn't around back then. Lastly, one man in your group will be equipped with an old style motion detection radar. Brandon, the group has nominated you to hold this responsibility."

Brandon simply nodded back at Michael and the group.

"Gentlemen. That is the conclusion of your briefing. No more questions are permitted. Please proceed out down the hall to the barracks where you will be suited up. Clarisse will show you."

The men stood and shuffled slowly towards the door. Brandon managed to walk beside Barry, where he whispered to him, "What the fuck have you got us into?"

Barry turned to him and replied. "Fuck me, mate. I dunno!"

His hands shaking in a mix of cold fear and excitement, Brandon followed the group out of the board room and into the hallway.

Michael smiled, chuckling softly as the doors closed behind them and they disappeared from view.


	3. The game begins

**Note from the Author:** This is intended to run for a few chapters only. I would very much appreciate feedback good or bad. Many thanks – Hoobajoo.

CHAPTER 3 – THE GAME BEGINS

Brandon stood, nervously cradling his pulse rifle in his hands and watching the motion sensor attached to his arm pulse and flicker, showing a blank screen.

The group of six men were standing in a dark hallway lined with old looking pipes and minimal lighting. The corridor snaked ominously to the right at the end, 10 metres down.

Just beforehand, the men jostled and joked nervously as they were suited up and fitted out in the barracks by a group of young women, all very attractive. The blonde woman from the foyer, Clarisse, looked after Brandon, and did not hide her flirting with him as she helped him climb into his suit. She smiled at Brandon as she deftly rubbed her hand on his crotch as he stepped into his combat pants.

But that was now all behind him and forgotten as he stood nervous and excited as a voice pierced the silence in his ear through his radio. It was Michael Danner.

"Gentlemen, welcome to the Xenorena. I trust that my assistants took care of you getting ready."

Guffaws and laughter echoed down the dark corridor.

"Gentlemen, I would very much advise each of you to now take this situation very seriously. The xenomorph you are to hunt down and destroy has already been released."

The laughter stopped very suddenly as some of the group mumbled and swore nervously.

"I will need to perform a blue shield check on each of you to ensure everything is in order. Each of you please stand still."

Each of the group stood still and straight as a blue glow enveloped around Brandon only.

Danner spoke into the radio again. "My utmost apologies gentlemen, it appears we have a minor glitch with the shields. Could everyone besides Brandon please go through the door behind you for a quick diagnostic."

The five men filed through the door quickly, but Barry turned to Brandon before he walked through. "Don't worry old boy. We'll be right back."

Brandon tried to hide his nervousness. "Yes alright. Don't take too long or you'll miss me shooting down this alien. I'll have to do it without you."

Barry smiled, his voice strangely dead of humour, "Well, we wouldn't want that now would we?" as he disappeared through the doorway.

Brandon waited, staring down the corridor as he listened to the motion tracker pulse, its screen blank. After only a couple of minutes the five men returned.

Barry turned to an obviously relieved Brandon, "Alright old boy. Let's set off."

"Sure." Brandon turned to look back down the corridor, but stared back at Barry for a moment. He was sure he saw something strange about him. His eyes. He didn't get a chance to check as the group of five set off down the corridor.

Arthur, the tallest of the group whispered back to Brandon, "Hey Brandon, you file in behind and watch our back, the corridors branch out in all directions up ahead. We wouldn't want this thing coming up our arse."

Brandon was actually happy to let the others stay up front as the rounded the corner and could see the corridor up ahead, dark and spooky, indeed branched off in several directions in a junction.

Brandon jumped as he heard a shrill noise pierce the silence. The motion tracker lit up showing a bright white splodge, moving right toward them. "Shit!"

"Where's it coming from?" they all seemed to ask at once.

Brandon felt his fear rising, "Fuck, I dunno. I dunno how to read this thing!"

The group swore and grumbled, Barry stepped out and looked Brandon in the face… Brandon squinted as he again felt something strange about him. "Brandon, read it properly, where's it coming from and how far away?"

Brandon pulled his eyes away from Barry and focused on the motion tracker's screen. Looking carefully, he could see a compass showing the direction and a small distance guage. "North East, uh 40 metres away, coming fast! 35 metres!"

The group kneeled down and clutched their weapons. Jones, a short and tubby man, pointed down a corridor, "That's north east! It's coming down there!"

Instantly, the group readied themselves, pointing their guns down the dark corridor. Brandon stood behind them, one eye on the tracker. The dot changed direction, "Hey! It's moving!"

Jones and Arthur immediately got up and started running full pelt down the corridor, Barry and the others followed right behind them. Before Brandon even knew what had happened, they had already disappeared into the gloom. He could hear Arthur shouting, "I'll get it." And what sounded like the others arguing back, "No I'll get it. Fuck off!"

Reluctantly, Brandon chased after them. They seemed to move so quickly. He'd never seen them run so fast before.

Panting and shaking, Brandon ran down the dark corridor. His radio instantly erupted as screams and gunfire filled his ears.

"Oh Jesus! Aaargh!" a mess of shouts and voices assaulted him. "Oh God don't let it get me!" Another voice, it sounded like Barry, "Oh shit! The fucking blue shields aren't working! Michael, what the fu- click "

Brandon couldn't hear any more and he slowed his pace and stopped. Alone in the gloomy corridor. The shrill whine of the tracker the only sound.

Suddenly a voice came through his radio, it was Danner, "Brandon. I don't know what's happened. The system's failed and the blue shields are down. The others are dead! You're on your own. You have to kill that xenomorph and proceed to the leftwell on the other side of the wing to get out!"

Brandon felt his stomach go cold, "Wh-What the fuck? What's going on?" His hands were shaking, the pulse rifle suddenly feeling extremely heavy in his hands.

"Oh God! The containment fields are failing, the xenomorphs are escaping! Brandon you have to move fast! Get to that liftwell and get out of there! Here, I've highlighted it on your helmet map."

Brandon flipped down the small visor on his helmet and could see a schematic map, with a red dot for himself and a yellow dot, which, presumably was the liftwell. "Wa-wa-wait a sec! Get in here and help me! I'm not going on my own!!"

"The door's are sealed, I can't override them!" Michael voice was losing it's composure. "I'll help you if I can, but the radio's starting to fail. Get that xenomorph and get to the liftwell NOW!!"

The radio cut out and went silent. Brandon shouted into his mic, "Michael! MICHAEL!"

The radio was silent.

Scared witless, Brandon looked down to his motion tracker and was somewhat comforted to see it was empty. No movement.

"Jesus Christ!" He focused as best he could on the minimap hovering over his right eye and surmised which was the quickest route from where he was standing.

The corridor down the left led straight to a room of some sort, with the liftwell on the other side, through a door, it looked like.

Reluctantly, Brandon turned and stepped towards the dark corridor, his legs feeling like dead iron weights. Sweat trickled down into his eyes and he quickly wiped it away, paranoid of danger.

Dark corridors and doorways lined the hallway. Trembling, he eyed the motion tracker like it was his only friend and continued to slowly walk further on. He tried to walk faster or run, but his legs wouldn't obey him.

The shrill alarm of the tracker caused him to jolt and almost drop his rifle. He looked at the tracker display, almost sobbing as cold fear threatened to well up in his throat and cause him to vomit.

"Oh God!" the dot was so close to him! He quickly turned and looked down the corridor as he heard a sharp hiss and pattering. In the distance, he saw something fly passed a wall light and the outline of a fast moving form coming straight for him along the wall.

Screaming at the top of his lungs, Brandon pointed the gun and fired, holding down the trigger as the rifle kicked into his shoulder and up into the air, punching holes into the wall and ceiling.

He fell back down on his behind and struggled to get back up to see if he got it. Thrashing, he saw the dark evil grin of the alien as it ran towards him along the ceiling. Closing his eyes, Brandon shoved the rifle out in front of him and fired again. The gun barked and bucked in his loose weak hand and fell limp to the floor, the magazine empty.

His eyes closed and paralysed with fear, he waited for death to come.

He still waited…

Confused, he reluctantly opened his eyes and sat up, looking down the hall. Bullet and pock marks lined the walls and he could see the mess that was the destroyed alien. It had been shredded, cut apart by the rifle's deadly fire.

He could see some kind of smouldering smoke emanate from the floor and walls that were splattered with the aliens innards and blood. They were melting away!

Brandon pulled himself up, stunned by the rush of adrenaline and realization he was still alive, he simply stared at the mess. He looked back to his gun and saw the counter reading '00'. Snapping into motion, he panicked and reached for a new magazine from a pouch in his combat pants, snapping it in hurriedly. He sighed loudly and smiled in thanks to see the counter rocket back up to '99'.

He flinched as a voice came through on the radio in his ear. "Brandon, it's Danner again. Good job! Excellent work! You got it! Now you have to make it to that liftwell as soon as you can. You must run! The other xenomorphs are converging on your position and will swarm you if you don't move! Get going!"

The radio clicked off again and Brandon was alone again. Feeling the blood pump around his body, he felt much stronger and his mind clearer all of a sudden as he ran down the corridor, carefully side stepping around the melting floor and over the alien's shattered carcass.


	4. GAME OVER!

**Note from the Author:** This is intended to run for a few chapters only. I would very much appreciate feedback good or bad. Many thanks – Hoobajoo.

CHAPTER 4 – GAME OVER

Brandon jogged down the long corridor, lights in the wall showing him the way down the concrete tunnel towards a trapezoid shaped door at the end. He tried his best to ignore the other tunnels and corridors that snaked off in different directions away from him, the dark gloom was playing with his mind, making him believe more of those monsters were waiting in the dark for him.

His footsteps echoed dully in the silence as he approached the door. A panel, lit in a yellow light, beckoned him to press the 'door open' button. Taking a deep breath, he pushed it and brought his gun up and ready as the door's motor hummed to life. The door pulled open, disappearing up into the top of the doorway as flashing yellow lights bathed the cold concrete corridor behind him.

Brandon couldn't properly make out the inside of the room. He could see emergency lights on the ceiling swivel around, teasingly illuminating the room in arcs of yellow light that disappeared as quickly as they came.

Stepping inside reluctantly, he peered around the room, making out the concrete walls and what looked like metal crates stacked against the edges, stretching down about 10 metres ahead of him to another trapezoid shaped door.

His pulse rifle clutched tightly in his hands, ready and cocked out in front of him, Brandon stepped inside, jumping as the door closed behind him. Swearing under his breath he regained his composure and scanned the room more closely as the light from his motion tracker help to illuminate his surroundings in a very faint blue glow. The room was cold and foreboding, but Brandon was convinced he couldn't see anything threatening. It was empty.

The steel grating on the floor thumped uncomfortably loudly as he stepped forward, his eyes trained on the door ahead.

He jumped again as the whine of the tracked on his arm pierced the uneasy silence. Looking down to the display, he saw another lone splodge of white ahead of him, closing quickly. Pulling his gun up, still eyeing the tracker, he focused his aim on the door, waiting for the alien to attack.

He flinched as he heard a growl and a series of dull thuds against the door. It was difficult to make out, but it appeared the door was buckling beneath the onslaught and Brandon's breathing sped up, his heart racing, his hands feeling like jelly.

As the arcs of yellow light danced across the doorway, Brandon saw movement. He thought he could make out a smooth and sloping shape thrashing around through an opening in the door. Sharp shards of steel bent out horribly.

Looking down the sights of his rifle, he prepared to fire as he saw the creature's glistening teeth. He swore it looked like it was smiling at him.

Mashing down the trigger, he let off a solid two second burst, before he opened his eyes again, hoping to see the monster had been obliterated.

A piercing white light shone through the gnarled and torn opening in the door, the light from the next room poring in. The outline of the storeroom he was in now much more visible, Brandon stepped forward slowly to the door's tear, eying the motion tracker, which was now silent.

He swallowed, his mouth dry as he approached the door, the bent steel poking out at him threateningly. Warily, he side stepped back and forth around the opening trying to see through into the next room, hoping to see the shattered remains of the monster.

Suddenly, everything seemed to go dark as the tear in the door was blocked out by a thrashing figure. Brandon fired out of reflex, bright flashes down the barrel sight and around the room as the bullets ricocheted off the door and walls around him. Having fallen back in surprise, Brandon quickly pulled himself up and flinched as he saw the monster in the opening.

Stifling the urged to fire again, he paused to analyse the figure and was relieved to see it was still. The creature's skeletal arms hung limply out and over the tear in the door, dangling towards the floor. The creature's face was a torn mess, missing and dripping acid blood which started melting the torn shards of the door sticking inward into the room.

Brandon stood transfixed as the doorway underneath the xenomorph seemed to melt away beneath it as it slowly descended, splayed out as it continued to melt into the steel grating and concrete floor.

Licking his lips and suddenly feeling stiflingly hot, Brandon realized he had to step over the creature's dead form and through the torn and burnt out opening to get to the next room. Edging forward uneasily, the light from the next room flowed in again, illuminating all around him and the carcass of the creature he had just blown away. He could see the creatures lean form, arms splayed out to the sides, the strange pipes sticking out of its back, it's menacing tail curled around on the floor and it's long thin legs lying out straight behind it in the next room.

The thing repulsed Brandon violently. It looked so…. unnatural and alien.

Standing uneasily right next to the body, Brandon peered through the opening and could see the liftwell's doors down the way before him. Brandon looked down at the alien's body, taking care to step over it awkwardly as he semi-crawled through the torn door.

Snapping his gun up again in front of him, he scanned the room. It was bathed in bright white lights, the walls made of concrete, painted a creamy white. The room would have oozed a safe aura if it wasn't for the torn and broken doorway to the left. Like the door behind him, it was bent horribly inwards as though the alien had torn through it like it was paper.

Checking his tracker again, he was relieved to see it was blank as he approached the liftwell and pressed the call button.

"Michael?" Brandon muttered into his radio mic. "Michael?"

No response.

The level counter above the elevator lit up and cycled down through various numbers and letters until he could hear the lift approach through the steel doors. The steel doors opened silently and quickly to reveal an empty lift chamber before him. The floor was lined with little white tiles and the walls were polished steel. Brandon eagerly stepped inside, sighing with relief as the doors closed, shutting him in.

Suddenly, Brandon's radio sparked to life, "Brandon, well done. You made it. Select the G1 button. That should take you to the surface."

Brandon checked the switchboard and pressed the button with his index finger, glad to see it light up and feel the lift begin to rise in response with a muffled crunch.

"Michael, what the fuck has happened here? I nearly fucking died back there! I'm scared shitless!" he felt like crying.

Michael voice was solid and reassuring in his ear, as though he was standing next to him. "Don't worry sir. You've performed extremely well so far. This lift should take up to the surface to a safe place. I've arranged for the facility to be locked down and sterilized."

"You mean you're gonna kill those things."

"Yes, that right."

Brandon gritted his teeth, "Good."

"--- Wait Brandon, we have a problem."

Brandon closed his eyes and whined tiredly, "What now?"

"My scanners are showing lots of xenomorph activity in level G1. When the elevator opens, you'll see a large foyer. At the opposite end is a doorway, those big steel doors you came through to get here, remember? I'll open them for you and close them behind you."

"And _then_ I'll be safe?"

"Yes."

"Fucking hell!"

"Brandon, the elevator is going to open soon, you better get ready, remember to reload. Good luck click "

Brandon's eyes went wide. "Wait! Hey!" He looked down to his rifle, the ammo counter was at 63. He popped the magazine out and fumbled for a new one from his pants pocket, slapping it in angrily.

Only a few seconds later, the elevator doors opened to a large foyer which he recognised from the original entrance earlier. Running out hurriedly, he bolted for the large steel doors at the far end, reaching them quickly.

Panicked, he shouted into his mic, "Michael! Open the fucking doors!"

His radio was silent and doors didn't move.

Brandon heard something and spun around to see a xenomorph running fast along the wall at the far end of the room above the elevator doors. Lifting his rifle, he aimed and fired, pressing the trigger in short bursts, trying to get a bead on the hard-to-see and dark figure.

Swiveling to the left he trained on the alien as it reached the other wall and started running right for him. Aware he was missing badly and his fear rising, he ran to the wall to cut the angle of attack so that the alien was running directly to him and was easier to hit. He lined the scrambling dark blur in his sights and fired, satisfied to hear a sickeningly wet and tearing sound as the bullets cut the xenomorph apart. It crashed in several chunks on the floor meters away from Brandon's feet as acid rained down on the floor, burning into the concrete.

Breathing fast, he checked his ammo counter: 17. SHIT! And hurriedly ejected the magazine and slapped in a new one. He had only one or two left, he wasn't sure.

Again, he shouted into his radio mic. "Danner! Can you hear me?! Open the goddamned door!"

Brandon was nearly knocked off his feet as the opening door knocking into him. He had forgotten the door made no noise. He hurriedly ran around the door frame and inside, his gun up and ready to take down any more of those creatures behind him.

"CLOSE THE FUCKING DOORS, DANNER!"

They didn't move and his radio was silent. Panicking, he felt so frustrated and angry as he saw several fast moving figures scrambling across the floor towards him.

Screaming at the top of his lungs, he raised his rifle and fired, unable to see beyond the muzzle flash that he had blown apart one of them and winged the other who was still charging him. A split second passed when Brandon realized the muzzle flash and thunder had stopped and his gun was empty again. The dull thud of the empty magazine crashing to the floor rubbed the cold reality in for him.

Scrambling, he tried to reach down and grab another magazine from him pocket. As his hands found the cold metal of the magazine, he looked up just in time to see the flash of the alien's teeth as it bore down on him.

Brandon's eyes flicked open and he snapped bolt upright, screaming and flailing. Confused, he crashed down on the floor as he felt something on top of him trying to grab him.

"NO NO NO!!!", he screamed.

But the hands held him fast and pinned him down. Closing his eyes, he waited for death.

"Brandon! It's OK! It's me! Barry!"

Brandon was in such a panicked state he almost didn't hear the familiar voice. He opened his eyes and saw his friend on top of him, his face a warm reassuring smile.

Tears streamed down Brandon's face as the relief of his good friend washed away the fear and warmed his ice cold stomach.

"Brandy, it's alright. You're safe. It's OK."

Brandon's smile faded as he gathered his thoughts. "But, you're dead. Aren't you?"

"Calm dow-"

Brandon felt cold again as he shouted desperately, "What the FUCK happened?!"

"It was a game, Brandy." Barry let go of him and backed away. Brandon, breathing heavily, but starting to calm down, saw he was lying on the floor of what looked like a hospital room, a bed next to him and a leather couch across the peach coloured room. Barry sat down on the couch, "It was all a game. You didn't die and we didn't die. It was a trick. You THOUGHT we were dead."

Brandon was struggling to follow, "But I saw you-"

Barry interrupted him, "No you didn't. We ran down that corridor remember? We disappeared and Michael told you on the radio we were all dead, didn't he? You heard us screaming and all that nonsense, right? You never saw our bodies."

Brandon tried to calm down and process what Barry was saying. Focusing on what he could remember, he could indeed recall that's what happened.

Barry continued, "Remember when they did that blue shield test and you were the only one that worked?" Brandon nodded. "That's because yours was the only one that was _supposed_ to work. When we left, the men that came back out again were hologram projections of us. I saw you look at me. You saw something wasn't quite right."

Brandon remembered thinking something looked strange about Barry as they came back through the entrance doors in the arena after the test. "So… it _was_ a trick… why?"

Barry scratched his chin, enjoying Brandon confusion. "To get you scared. To make it seem real. You did indeed kill those creatures that attacked you. They were very real. But your blue shield was working the whole time. Remember when that xenomorph jumped you at the double doors in the foyer?"

Brandon shuddered as he remembered.

Barry snapped his fingers, "That's when you lost the game. You were knocked unconscious and the alien was fried by an electro cannon in the ceiling afterwards."

Brandon pulled himself up and sat down on the bed, still confused, but starting to piece things together.

"Remember that Danner man was giving you instructions over the radio saying things like 'Oh the doors don't work, the xenomorphs are escaping! Run to the elevator!' He was leading you through the game."

Barry continued, "You were the sixth of us to play the game. Arthur, Jones and the rest who were with you last night had played already. None of them performed nearly as well as you did. You're the winner so far."

Brandon ran his hands through his hair and then rested his head in his hands. "So it was all a game. You fooled me." He opened the fingers covering his eyes to look at Barry who sat looking very smug on the couch.

"Yep. That's why this Xenorena experience is so good."

Brandon, chuckled to himself as he came to appreciate the intricate set up, and the raw and terrifying experience that he had been subjected to. All in the name of Manday.

Grinning, Brandon looked Barry right in the eyes. "$10 million, huh? I can see where it goes. Fucking hell, Barry. You had me good."

Returning the smile, Barry spoke, "Don't feel so bad old man. Guess what?"

"What?"

"Chris, Leroy and Jenkins are next after that Lingerman and Phorak merger is over and they have some free time. You up for joining in on the act and seeing how well they do?"

Brandon broke out in a loud laugh, "Definitely!"

THE END

**Author's note:** Thanks for reading. Please submit a review and let me know what you thought. Much appreciated.

- Hoobajoo.


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